Cindersoot in Indiana
by Sari of Time
Summary: Is Cinderella really what she seems? This tells the real, modern story on Cinderella and her new family.
1. Tomato Soup

Chapter 1

"Daddy, your just going to love what I made for dinner, it's your favorite. Tomato soup." said a girl about twelve years of age. She spooned some of the red broth into a bowl and server it to her father.

"Daddy? You haven't called me that since you were little."

"Isn't it ok if I revisit my childhood to make you feel happy for once?"

"You wouldn't be doing this to suck up to me about your new step-mother, would you."

"Of course not." She said innocently as she poured out the wine. She took her seat and sipped the soup slowly.

"This smells delicious." her father began to spoon the soup into his mouth, bite after bite. He drank some wine to wash it down and continued to eat his soup. "It's to bad your new sisters, and your mother are out shopping, they would love this." he continued to gulp down his soup while the girl named Amanda sipped hers slowly. Suddenly her father jerked up in his seat and held onto his heart.

"Something's wrong." he gasped out.

"I know Daddy, you're having a heart attack." she looked at him smugly and sipped her wine. "In about ten minutes I'll be calling the emergency room." her father looked at her with shock, still holding his heart with one hand and bracing himself on the table with the other.

"What?"

"Oh, Jason. Didn't you notice how slowly I was eating my soup while you gulped down yours greedily?" he opened his mouth to say something but didn't get the chance to, he fell over and his face fell into his bowl of soup and his hand knocked over his glass of wine. "Poor boy. You shouldn't have told those three that you had a headache. An over dose often looks like a heart attack, especially when there is a special chemical laced into the pain killer." she stood up from the table, walked over to her now dead father, and leaned over. "You never saw it coming. You fool." she walked over to the telephone and dialed the three numbers nine-one-one.

"911 emergency how may I help you." a woman's voice reached the other end.

"Hello? I need help." Amanda said in a scared voice. "My father is having a heart attack." she choked out a fake sob.

"What's your address?" the woman asked.

"222 Cherry tree lane, Evansville."

"Some one will be there soon."

"No, I think it's too late, he's dead." she pretended to burst into tears while the woman hung up. She looked over at the lifeless form of her father. "What would mother say? You shouldn't have married her, now she's stuck with me." she smiled as she called forth some tears and walked onto the front porch of their fancy house. She sat on the sun chair that was always out there in the summer and continued to make her face streaked with tears.

Less than ten minutes later an ambulance stopped in front of her house and three men climbed out carrying a girder behind them.

"Is the body in here Ma'am?"

"Yes," she choked out. They went into the house and minutes later they came out with her father on the girder, covered in a white sheet. Two of the men carried her father down the driveway while the third lingered behind.

"Well call to make the funeral arrangements." he said.

"He always said he wanted to be cremated." her eyes began to fill with false tears again. The man carrying her father were half way down the driveway when another car pulled up and three women stepped out.

"Amanda! What's all this?" the oldest called out. The man looked at Amanda and began to walk toward the three ladies and their full arms. They had brought home the fruits of their shopping day.

"Ma'am, do you live here?" he asked walking toward them.

"Yes, the man who owns this place is my husband."

"I'm sorry ma'am, your husband has just died of a heart attack."

"No, you can't be serious. Amanda, what's going on?" Amanda stood up and wrapped her arms around her waist, slowly walking down to her step-mother she began to cry once more.

"Daddy is dead." the two younger women looked from the ambulance, to the man in front of them, to Amanda. Amanda ran back into the house and up the stairs, burying her face in her hands and making crying sounds as she went.

"Ella, Heather, take these bags inside." The two plain girls did as they were told in silence.

"I suppose you'll need my phone number." Paula said to the ambulance driver as the two sisters ran into the house. Inside Ella and Heather ran upstairs to get Amanda. They reached her room and left the door open when they walked in. They shifted their weight to one foot and placed their hands on their hips.

"I hope you don't expect up to clean up that mess down there." Ella said smugly. The smarter of they two, but still the most plain.

"My father just died." Amanda said normally.

"Why do we care? Our mother married him for the money." Heather said sarcastically, her blond hair reaching past her shoulders.

"You are very unlucky." Ella continued. "Your life has changed tonight. You're no longer the one that has to be babied to impress someone." Amanda looked at each of them, one thought running through her mind, _what have I done?_


	2. Paris

Chapter 2

Amanda only regretted what she did for, at most, a few hours. Her step-sisters dragged her down stairs to clean up the mess her father had made when he died. They watched her to make sure she didn't miss a single spot. She was done by the time her step-mother came into the house. She said she wasn't going to have a funeral for Amanda's father. They just cremated him and put him on the mantle of their fire place.

That is how it went, for years, Amanda's new mother thought her daughters could do no wrong, and god forbid if they got their fingers dirty. Amanda did all the work around the house, while her step-family spent money like they had millions to burn.

"You have no right to spend my fathers money like this!" she got the courage up to say on day.

"We can do whatever we want with his money. He left no will." at this comment Paula, Ella, and Heather burst into a fit of laughter. Sometimes Amanda would find ways to get out of doing the work, but when she did she was punished, double chores. She tried to run away a few times, but the police would bring her back, laughing if she had told them about how she was treated. Thinking surly she was exaggerating. Whenever Amanda had a spare moment to herself she would sit and think. She had thought that surly her father would have left everything to her, but according to Paula, he had left no will. Amanda's step sisters took everything that was important to her and made it their own. Whatever they liked was theirs, no matter if it belonged to someone else.

Amanda was eighteen years old before she had her first chance to get out on her own. She had no friends, she had no time for friends. There was a field trip to Paris France. She forged her mothers signature and stole the 150 from her purse. After that she just turned it in to the office and a week later she was on her way, across the ocean. She saw beautiful castles from the sky, they may have been centuries old, but they were beautiful nonetheless.

The flight took fourteen hours until they finally landed. The baggage claim was simple and there were people that would drive you where ever you wanted to go. Hardly anyone else from her school was there. The school only offered a chance to go there, once you were there you were on your own. But you did have a reserved room at a hotel. Amanda had a single suitcase, so it was easy for her to maneuver herself through the crowd.

She stepped outside and a cold breeze made her clothes ripple. A car drove up and it rolled down its window.

"Need a lift?" the driver asked, finding English difficult.

"Thank you." Amanda said opening the trunk and throwing in her suitcase. She slid into the back seat as the driver rolled up the window.

"Where to?" the taxi driver asked. Amanda looked at him, then switched her gaze to the world outside. She looked back at the driver and smiled.

"_L'hotel Paris." _she said in high school French. The taxi driver smiled and drove into the oncoming traffic. Gazing out the window at the many wonders of this new world as they passed her by. In the distance she could see the Eiffel tower, glowing in the afternoon sun. They soon arrived in front of a large building with many windows. The male taxi driver turned around and began to speak to Amanda.

"Welcome, to _L'hotel Paris._" he said grandly. Amanda gave him some money and stepped out of the car as he popped the trunk. She took out her black suitcase and shut the trunk staring up at the large building ahead of her.

"Wow." she said walking up the steps to the front door. The inside of the building had intricate carved pillars and an oak desk. The walls were painted tope, a very soothing color, and the desk was beautiful, only a finishing seal on it to show its natural beauty. She strode up to the front desk and smiled at the woman sitting there.

"Hello," she said, "How may I help you?" her English was fluent.

"I just came from the Americas, I believe I have a reservation here. My name is Amanda."

"Amanda H.?" the woman asked.

"Yes."

"Your room number is 218, here is your key." she handed Amanda a copper key with a tag that read '218' on it.

"Thank you." Amanda said politely as she walked away. She waited at the elevator and when it finally came, it was empty. She stepped inside and pushed the button for the third floor. When she finally stopped going up, the doors opened and she walked down the hallway, looking to either side of her for the number '218'. She dragged her suitcase past nine doors before she reached her destination.

"218." she said satisfied. She unlocked the door and stepped inside. The room was beautiful, a two-bedded room, with one large window that was covered by red velvet-like drapes. She put her suit case on one of the beds and walked over to the window, examining the fabric and feeling its texture. She through them wide open and looked at the view before her. Several building were scattered throughout the huge city, and in the distance she could catch a glimpse of the Eiffel tower, glowing in the light of the setting sun.


End file.
